


the fragrance that the violet sheds

by VenatorNoctis



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/F, Fisting, Monsterfucking, Secret Relationship, Size Difference, Squirting, Unsafe Sex, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:42:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24710251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenatorNoctis/pseuds/VenatorNoctis
Summary: Tesleen reaches out to her, a hand tipped with claws that could spear her straight through with room to spare. Alisaie steps into her grip and her talons close ever so delicately around Alisaie's torso. It's such a gentle touch, as if Alisaie is still precious to her despite what the Light has done.
Relationships: Alisaie Leveilleur/Tesleen the Forgiven
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20
Collections: The First Annual Femslash Kink Exchange 2020





	the fragrance that the violet sheds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JackOfNone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackOfNone/gifts).



_The way it began:_

_The monster that used to be Tesleen was defeated, on the ground in a clearing in Holminster Switch. Her wings twitched limply and she lifted her head, strange black eyes looking right at Alisaie._

_"You go ahead," Alisaie told the others through the lump in her throat. Her sword had never felt heavier in her hand. "This is something I have to do."_

_They didn't want to, probably her brother least of all, but they listened. The Lightwarden was still waiting for them, and there were people to save, and Tesleen wasn't part of that equation anymore, not on either side._

_They left Alisaie alone with her to do what had to be done. Alisaie stepped close, studying the weaknesses of the Sin Eater before her, ready to deliver the coup de grace—_

_And Tesleen stretched out one shaking hand._

* * *

Whenever she has the opportunity, Alisaie takes a room, or a tent, or an alcove to herself. She has a secret to keep now. A visitor to receive, when the dark of night—thank the gods and their dearest friend for the return of night—will cover her approach.

She paces, waiting. She's in Lakeland tonight, staying at Fort Jobb after helping secure a supply line. The Crystarium isn't far, but it's so much better protected, and that's not a plus anymore. She isn't even certain she'll get a visit tonight; she can't be completely certain no matter how many times it's happened before. But she felt the weight of an inhuman gaze this afternoon, as they returned from clearing the roads, and the soldiers muttered about something pale slipping through the trees.

Something scratches against the roof tiles outside her window and Alisaie turns immediately. She hears a soft trilling just as the gaunt shape fills her window, and something dark and ragged drops onto the floor.

"Another present?" she asks. She walks over to pick up the trophy and it's just as grisly as she expected: a man's head, raggedly torn free of its body. The face has gone slack in death but it's still recognizable as the bandit who escaped her patrol that afternoon.

Tesleen trills again, talons clinging to the windowsill, her head cocked to one side as if to gauge the reception of her gift. Words seem to come less easily to her every time they meet, but she communicates just fine.

"Scoot," Alisaie says briskly, gesturing for her to get out of the window. "You know I can't keep things like this around." Tesleen leans forward and crawls into the room on all fours, long hellish-white limbs and closely mantled wings. Alisaie slips past her to set the awful thing on the roof outside; she'll have to get rid of it before she leaves here tomorrow. She turns back to meet Tesleen's waiting gaze. "Still, thank you. It's touching that you were watching over me and wanted to help."

Tesleen reaches out to her, a hand tipped with claws that could spear her straight through with room to spare. Alisaie steps into her grip and her talons close ever so delicately around Alisaie's torso. It's such a gentle touch, as if Alisaie is still precious to her despite what the Light has done.

"Come here," Alisaie says, reaching up to cup her face. Tesleen arches her strange long neck down, her void-dark eyes so wide and deep it gives Alisaie vertigo to look too deeply into them. She kisses like she's starving, and her mouth tastes like salt and steel and long-dry wood. It used to be softer. It used to be warmer. But she keeps coming back, and she's so careful, and that counts for a lot.

One of her talons tugs at the collar of Alisaie's jacket and Alisaie hums. She has plenty of coordination to get out of her clothes while still kissing a pretty girl. Or—well—she can do it, that's the important thing, shedding her clothes in a little heap at her feet and shivering as Tesleen's claws skate over her bare skin. Her clit throbs at the careful scrape of sharp claws, the way they circle but don't quite touch her nipples, making her needy enough to nip at Tesleen's mouth. Tesleen makes a noise into Alisaie's mouth that wavers between a growl and a purr, and the tiny wings on the sides of her head flutter.

Alisaie's hands slide down over Tesleen's gaunt shoulders and arched collarbones, finding the too-smooth surfaces of her breasts—mere suggestions of the yielding softness that used to be there when she was human. But she still makes sweet sounds when Alisaie touches them, pressing into the touch. She was always starved for kindness.

"You're too tall," Alisaie says fondly, pushing Tesleen backward toward the bed. And Tesleen lets her, taking little shuffling steps, lifting her wings so they're out of the way, moving until her calves hit the bed frame. The bed creaks when she sits and her mouth curves like she's trying to smile. She's still taller than Alisaie, even seated, but the difference is less.

"Much better," Alisaie says. She fits easily between Tesleen's sinewy thighs, and her hands can explore at ease as she's caught in the shifting cage of Tesleen's claws. When her teeth, blunt and ordinary, scrape along Tesleen's collarbone, Tesleen makes a fluting sound of such longing it makes her shiver.

They've never had much of a chance to linger. First it was the constant awareness of people nearby who might need their help at any time, and now it's the knowledge that Tesleen might need to fly from people who don't understand that she's more than she seems.

Alisaie sinks to her knees on the threadbare old rug, hands on Tesleen's knees to spread her legs farther apart. Tesleen leans back on her elbows and watches, the way she did the very first time, when she was a human girl near Alisaie's own size, with warm blood and a musky-sweet cunt that Alisaie couldn't get enough of.

Now the flesh between her legs is stretched and sunken as her breasts, and a cool stormy gray instead of warm rose, but the pearly slickness glistening along her folds is near enough to the same. This early, anyway. Alisaie trails her fingertips up Tesleen's thigh to her cunt, the few vestigial feathers where coarse hair should be, the slick folds that are almost but not quite as warm as Alisaie remembers.

When she presses three fingers in, Tesleen croons, but it sounds more like a plea than like satisfaction. Even as a human, Tesleen could take her whole hand if they worked up to it. Alisaie rocks her fingers, the pearly slickness gathering and dripping down over her hand. It's dangerous, probably; there aren't any records of the curse being transmitted by sex, but the Light is so insidious, and Sin Eaters are so wholly infused with it. Alisaie folds her fingers together and slides her hand into Tesleen's cunt up to the wrist. Is she still the same shape inside, and only size makes her feel strange, or has she been transformed even there? This is no time for that kind of question.

She rocks her fist, trying to find the same places to put pressure and friction. It's so easy to move, and Tesleen is making sweet gasps and moans just like she used to when she was... before everything happened. Alisaie looks up at her face, the void-dark eyes and fluttering wings but her mouth, her mouth is still the same—

And she gasps out, "More, please," a plea that makes Alisaie ache, so sweet and familiar.

"Whatever you need," Alisaie murmurs. She presses the fingers of her other hand against her wrist and pushes forward, sinking slowly into the cool slickness of Tesleen's cunt. She can ball both hands into fists and move them together and Tesleen whimpers, her whole body shuddering. When she rocks her hands forward now, pushing deep, she can _see_ the movement, the shape she makes pressing upward in the sunken hollow between Tesleen's hips. Each thrust makes Tesleen's wings quiver behind her and her limbs tremble; her claws are digging into the sheets, the fabric tearing as she forgets to be careful.

The muscles of her cunt are twitching, fluttering around Alisaie's wrists, and her breath is coming in sharp, needy gasps. Alisaie rubs her own thighs together for any friction at all, her own arousal distractingly intense. "Almost there," she says, "almost there, sweetheart, I've got you," quiet and urgent. For all that's changed this is still Tesleen, _her_ Tesleen, lovely and strange.

One more thrust and she's coming, clenching down hard around Alisaie's wrists, her thighs trapping Alisaie in place as she squirts: thick, pearly white fluid spurts out of her around Alisaie's hands, musky and Light-tinged, spattering Alisaie with messy streaks of it from mouth to thighs. It's _filthy_ and probably not safe and Alisaie keeps coaxing out more as long as she can, until the contractions of Tesleen's cunt push her all the way out and she sits back on her heels, slick and dripping. Her wrists ache from the pressure. Her shoulders ache as though she's been drilling rapier thrusts. Her nipples are stiff enough that it shows through the mess and her own cunt feels like it's hot enough to melt steel.

"Good?" she says. She licks her lips without meaning to, and there's such a tang of wrongness to it, something curdled, but she swallows anyway.

Tesleen nods, sitting up in a slow, alien coil, careful in a space too small for her. Her lips part and she pauses briefly before she rasps out, "Now you."

She grabs Alisaie by the arm and twists, suddenly as fast and strong as a monster should be, and Alisaie's back hits the bed before she's even had time to think about resisting. It knocks the breath out of her in a half-swallowed grunt and makes her clit throb. She spreads her legs as Tesleen looms over her, watching—probably watching—her with those black pits for eyes.

"Yes," Alisaie whispers as Tesleen cranes her long neck down. Forgiven or no, Tesleen is the one she wants. "Yes."


End file.
